


That Was an Order

by Glossolalia



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Era, Crying, Dubious Consent, Dubious Ethics, Finger Sucking, M/M, Mind Control, Mutually Unrequited, No One Gets It In, Non-Consensual Kissing, Purchased, Sexual Content, Sorry Not Sorry, Submissive Shiro, That's not the point of this kink., Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-31
Updated: 2016-10-31
Packaged: 2018-08-28 06:19:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8434891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Glossolalia/pseuds/Glossolalia
Summary: The Galra implanted Shiro with a couple 'buzzwords' that make Shiro hit his knees. Keith discovers one of them and can't help but take advantage of a man who thrives on being in control.





	

There were ideations that came with being a Paladin of Voltron. To anyone entering deep space, this was unavoidable both because of the dreamlike quality space had to humans and possibly the Ridley Scott _Alien_ franchise.

Even for those who studied space, there was something about its massive imposing nature, its sublime, that radiated the idea of endless adventure.

"Lance, if you try to Dutch oven Keith one more time, then we're going to leave you on the next planet we pass."

Unless your name was Takashi Shirogane.

He'd had dreams _once_.

Dreams that hadn't included being a part-time babysitter to a group of young adults who were somehow entirely incapable in the most abstract ways. Even the man he'd once seen as an equal, his unspoken crush of two years and some change, no longer looked to him in the same light he once had. By cruel design, Shiro had been shouldered with responsibility. More responsibility, actually. Because apparently, a year of keeping himself alive in an intergalactic empire hadn't been enough.

_Thanks, God._

There was the sudden clapping of Keith and Lance whacking one another. They never threw fists in his presence, but they did beat at each other's strongest armor points as a way to make a point. It was childish, wolfish and so beneath their age and experience within the military that sometimes Shiro's patience beat in agony. Control was important, though. He couldn't act his age and kneel to their level if he wanted to maintain Voltron's order.

Tired.

He was so tired.

Shiro was seated in his control chair, head turned to listen closely to the pair as they bickered about Lance's 'inarguably' low fighting statistics. Keith had been trying to give him advice, Lance had felt threatened, so there they were with Pidge and Hunk playing cards in the background as if the world was quiet around them. Shiro crossed his arms and wondered if he should take up meditation or maybe a casual Nunvill habit. Possibly both.

The next thud actually sounded hard, and at once, Shiro was on his feet.

"That hurt!" Lance yelled, rubbing the heel of his palm against the place Keith had hit. It was along his unshielded abdominals.

"I barely touched you!"

Shiro grabbed Keith's shoulder and tugged him back, suddenly looking between the two who weren't looking at him but each other. "You ask me to quit treating you like cadets, and this is how you act? Come on, you two. We're long past this."

"We're not cadets," Lance countered, eyes burning into Keith's. "We're the same age you were when you graduated from the Garrison and moved rank."

Keith seemed to agree. "I can't help it he doesn't know how to take advice, even when I'm being _polite_."

"Polite?" Lance barked out a laugh. "As if you're _ever_ polite."

Keith lunged, eyes wide with dangerous rage, and Shiro fluidly barricaded him with his bionic arm, then pointedly squeezing his hip before hoisting. He seamlessly tossed Keith over a broad shoulder like a sack of flour, and Shiro held the squirming paladin with condescending ease. Keith slammed a fist against Shiro's back, but he stopped short when Shiro's hand firmly grasped onto the back of one of his upper-thighs as a means to secure him in place. Shiro felt Keith's unintentional inhale, but he ignored the auto-response.

Lance's laughter followed, but Shiro's sharp look of disapproval quieted the Blue Paladin. His shoulders fell in shame.

Hunk and Pidge simultaneously lifted an eyebrow, not looking up from their cards.

"You've made your point," Keith said, breathless as Shiro walked them off the bridge and toward the castle's bowels. He was thankful Allura and Coran had turned in for an early night. Humiliation didn't do well by Keith. "Shiro, put me _down_. I'm second-in-command. You…"

The doors shut behind them with a soft whirr, and to be honest, after the day he'd had, having Keith caught off guard felt good. Control was always good. In fact, Shiro thrived on knowing he had _something_ in line outside of himself.

"Shiro! Heel, yield, stall, impede!" Keith kept snapping orders, suddenly laughing to himself when Shiro smacked the back of his thigh with the bionic palm. He did it again and again, hand going higher and higher until Keith's laughter escalated into an airy noise. The claps echoed, and Keith sucked a breath through front teeth. " _Ow_ — That one was— _ow_! Don't, Takashi. I'm really not in the mood for it."

As if Keith had ever been in the mood for anything.

Shiro knew that whacking Keith like this was no different than being snapped by a damp towel in the showers.

"You're right, you know. You're second-in-command, which is why I can't seem to understand why you'd throw yourself at Lance."

"Right. Lay me to rest," Keith grumbled. "And don't make it sound like _that_. As if I'd throw myself at…"

Sudden stillness.

A sharp grunt emitted from Shiro's throat, and a rush similar to vertigo caused the light in the Black Paladins' eyes to pulsate yellow, mauve and then flake to black. A thud followed suit, and Shiro pithily inhaled as the world spun, entirely unaware of Keith's calling and hard yank to pull free from his hold. Shiro had nearly dropped him, but the façade of Shiro's power was all at once over anyway. It wasn't as if Keith hadn't been strong enough to get away in the first place.

"Shiro," Keith calmly snapped, attempting to pull the leader from his daze. The Red Paladin sank to his knee in front of the kneeled man, discerning his face and reaching for his jawline with both hands. His gloved thumbs smoothed along both sides of his face, grazing potential stubble. This wasn't the first time they'd done this. "Shiro, I'm right here."

"I…" Shiro cleared his throat, the word terse and violently tearing from between clenched teeth. "I can't move."

"Remember you always come out of these. It's okay." Keith dropped his hands, and he reached for Shiro's biceps. "Breathe, Shiro…"

Shiro couldn't shake his head, but his eyes widened and the harsh yell from the deepest reach of his throat was the result of him trying to jerk his limbs into movement. Finally, able to open his mouth enough to properly speak and not growl, Shiro rasped out an angry cry.

"Keith, it's different. This time it's different. I can't _move_."

This was panic. Shiro wasn't one to panic, but there he was, crumpled and eyes lit with sudden fear that made Keith contemplate standing to retrieve Allura.

"We should get the princess," Keith advised, but Shiro's muted wail implied that was exactly what he didn't want. "Then we should go to the infirmary!"

" _No_."

It was a part of their agreement. Shiro suffered in silence, Keith calmed the storm, and then they acted as if Shiro's mentality wasn't a hundred-year-old stone fence sinking into Irish hills. Weathered, the man was so weathered, and Keith did his best to regard him as leader, to view him as the head of all decisions, but he wanted to return to a time when it would've been okay to tell Shiro he sought to care for him as more than just a best friend. Keith devoured his words in mouthfuls, slowly chewing through the fibrous meals again and again.

"Do you know what it could be?" Keith asked, more talking to himself. He thought back to the past two minutes, what had been done. "I said the words 'lay me to rest,' and then—"

At 'to rest,' Shiro's shoulders sank down with a violent slam, and suddenly, his head dropped forward and hung heavy, unmoving. His eyes flickered from a gloomy overcast to an incandescent yellow that caused Keith to stand with shortened breath. He stepped back, booted foot causing an echo to cascade down the hallway.

"Shiro?" Keith whispered, not wanting to draw in the cameras. "Shiro, what's wrong? I'm going to get Allura if you don't tell me."

Shiro's head slowly rose, and as if waiting, his gaze locked onto Keith's face. His panic was gone, and the harsh breathing had evened into a series of eerily patterned inhales and exhales. He slowly blinked, not demonstrating an inkling of impatience with Keith's lack of understanding or so Keith assumed. Finding emotion in the glowing yellow was a trial.

While Keith didn't have the engineering skills of Hunk and Pidge, he was a problem solver by nature. He furrowed his brow, thought and then his eyes grew in diameter.

"Shiro," he said, words suddenly authoritative. "I want you to stand."

Keith skirted back with lifted fists when Shiro did exactly as asked. Movements effortless, too natural to unnerve Keith beyond the fact Shiro wasn't speaking, Shiro righted his shoulders and expectantly looked to the other. His arms slowly crossed over his chest, and he shifted his weight evenly onto his feet. Keith had to wonder if Shiro was 'fucking with him,' but that was so outside Shiro's standard of acting he knew it wasn't possible.

His eye averted from Shiro, and Keith rolled his jaw in thought. He dropped his fists. "Shiro, take three steps back."

Shiro did exactly that.

Without explanation, there was a ringing in Keith's ears. He'd unlocked something the Galra evidently implanted in Shiro. Not only was it terrifying to think about what they'd done with such power, but there was a small thrill in it that made Keith instantly disgusted with himself. He couldn't be that person. He wasn't that person.

"Shiro, come here."

Keith's order was quiet, but the authority in his voice was natural. He couldn't meet the Black Paladin's eye as he approached him, and his heart stuttered when the footfalls grew closer. Soon enough, Shiro was standing in front of him. Keith kept his eyes lowered to the tips of Shiro's boots, and he wondered what the limitations were. Was there something Shiro wasn't programmed to do? The high-tech schematics for the Galra arm implied there had to be a kind of moral deadbolt involved. Surely the Galra had an ethical standard that prevented soldier abuse.

"Shiro," Keith whispered, words flimsy between his lips. "Touch me."

There was hesitation, but a cool palm eventually gripped his bicep. The hold was pointed, firm. Keith inhaled through his front teeth, and he furrowed his brow.

Was he disgusted with himself?

He wanted to be.

"Both hands," he added after what seemed like an infinite silence.

Shiro's flesh fingers took hold of his other arm, and Keith sharply inhaled when Shiro tugged him forward only to wait. A hushed crackle of energy dispersed throughout the front of Keith's skull, and he blinked past his uncertainty only to right his shoulders and look up at Shiro.

He inspected Shiro's expression. The man's mouth was somber and his gaze stood vacant, even though he was respectfully giving Keith his undivided attention. Truly, Shiro wasn't fully there.

Keith's pulse quickened. "Get on your knees."

Shiro didn't hesitate.

The Black Paladin descended to his knees with confident fluidity. Once he was settled in his anticipation for more orders, Keith reached for the shaved side of his head. He brushed his fingers along the crushed velvet that was the new growth, enjoying the intimacy. The touch swept down the side of his throat, and Keith hunted for Shiro's pulse. When the tiny throbs read beneath his fingertips, Keith began to count. It was even, entirely void of the fear and panic Keith himself was feeling for Shiro. For some reason, and Keith hoped it wasn't himself giving his dying tenets a platform, it made him feel better.

"Tell me what you're feeling," Keith ordered, no longer afraid to look at Shiro.

Shiro's hollow gaze didn't depart from Keith's. "Anything you want me to feel."

Keith dragged his fingers to Shiro's chin. He slid his thumb along his bottom lip, pulling the flesh downward as if assessing a canine's quality. The dry air on the ship had long since chapped the Paladins' lips, and Keith appreciated the roughness along the pad of his digit. Shiro blinked, continuing to wait for an order, and Keith took a step closer so the leader's face was but five inches from the front of his undersuit's black pants. Shiro's warm breath pooled along the thin material and swept along the inside of his thigh.

Keith nudged his head back so that he could look up at him.

"I want you to feel good," Keith whispered, voice building with implication. "Really, really good. Feel good, Shiro."

Shiro's navel visibly retracted on that order.

He pushed his thumb between Shiro's lips, and without a flinch, whispered the word ' _suck._ ' Shiro took him to the webbing of his hand, flattening his tongue beneath the thumb and creating a soft vacuum with his mouth. Keith admired how Shiro's lips knew exactly what pressure to apply, how his cheeks subtly hollowed, and he cleared his throat when Shiro managed the slightest moan. It was raspy, almost timid in what Keith assumed was Shiro's need to be obedient. Shiro's enthusiasm quickened, and Keith replaced his thumb with his index and middle finger, subtly spreading them so that Shiro's tongue could flick between the crevice.

Keith imagined his cock in place of his fingers. Clearly, Shiro knew how to suck someone off or at least wanted to, and the thought alone caused the Red Paladin to salivate. He was growing hard behind the protective cup beneath his suit, which prompted him to finger fuck the man's throat, digits stroking the roof of his mouth as they grew slicker, wetted Shiro's lips.

"Stop," Keith suddenly breathed.

Shiro did, pulling off and weakly panting behind his leashed demeanor. Keith reached for Shiro's forelock and gingerly tugged his head back even more, then leaning over the man and inspecting his muted features with a cocked eyebrow.

"Open your mouth."

Shiro parted his lips, and Keith dropped his mouth to Shiro's, his free hand sliding down the man's chest and sweeping along his warm stomach. A tinge of pink plumed along Shiro's nose, and Keith didn't acknowledge it aside from a hotly whispered ' _kiss back_.'

The trigger was pulled, and Shiro huskily groaned. He reached for the side of Keith's face and held. Both sets of lips rolling in between hard breathing, Shiro sucked Keith's bottom lip and smartly combined every command Keith had given him.

_Touch, suck, kiss._

Keith stroked his tongue along Shiro's, drinking in the lingering taste of the Altean energy pouch they'd been sucking down earlier. A series of soft pops echoed throughout the hallway, and Keith's fingertips flashed with an electric heat that tingled. It reached his toes, his throat and he deepened the kiss with his own moan. At the moan, Shiro reached for the backs of Keith's thighs and held him in place, occasionally applying pressure with climbing fingers.

"Do you want to suck me off?" Keith asked into Shiro's mouth. Shiro hesitated since it wasn't an order, but Keith kissed the corner of his lips. "Answer me, Shiro."

There was an internal fight there. Keith could read it in Shiro's pause, his escalated breathing. The next word scraped from Shiro's throat, smoky and unsettled. "Yes."

"Do you want me to fuck you?"

Shiro shuddered and wrinkled his nose. He shook his head in resistance, but Keith didn't retract the order. He wanted the answer, and as his power blossomed between them, Keith trailed his kisses from Shiro's mouth to the defined line that made up his jaw. There he suckled the skin as Shiro's internal dialogue escalated into a screaming match only combated by the Black Paladin's telling hitched breathing. Shiro sputtered on a formulating word, and when his chest heaved, Keith heard the onset of a deep sob.

Tears.

Shiro was about to shed tears.

"Shiro," Keith whispered and then dug his teeth into a patch of flesh. He paused to suck a bruise to the surface, wanting to see purple. "That was an order."

"God, _yes_."

"Yes _what_?"

A tear dribbled from the corner of Shiro's eye and it swept downward into Keith's bruising kisses, the taste salty amongst dried sweat. Shiro unsteadily respired and grappled for some kind of control that would make it clear he was following orders, doing as Keith commanded of him.

"I want you to fuck me," he said, choking on his thickening words.

Keith kissed the trail the tear had made, but he stopped at Shiro's temple. The man was holding onto his thighs more for support than anything else at that point. Keith dragged his parted lips toward the patch of skin beneath Shiro's earlobe, and as he soothingly pushed back Shiro's bangs, he considered whether or not he liked to see Shiro sniffling, breaking in two.

"Shiro, I'm going to let you go, and I'm going to leave." Shiro's grip tightened on him, a pleading gesture. "When I'm no longer in this hallway, then you're going to come back to your autonomous self, and you're not going to remember any of this, okay?"

There was only a nod.

Keith couldn't look at Shiro as he pulled away with a final peck to his cheek. Heart hammering, the Red Paladin shifted to the side and walked past Shiro's knelt form, lips hot and groin aching at the thought of bending an all-obedient Black Paladin over the nearest countertop and fucking him until there were more tears, more internal battling. Something about knowing that was what Shiro wanted satisfied him, made his entire body hum in gratuity.

He turned a corner and heard Shiro's sharp inhale as he came to. It was followed by a ragged cough, the smack of palms colliding with the castle's floor and then a series of dry heaving. Whether or not Shiro vomited, he didn't know. He didn't want to know.

Keith told himself it would never happen again.

That said, he made no promises.


End file.
